I Love Winter
by EiSeL
Summary: Deathly Hallows: there was a final chapter and there was an epilogue. What happened in between? HGRW
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, y'all! Okay, this is the first chapter of a few... but I've already finished the story except for maybe two parts (I will finish this one, dangit! lol) The next chapter is going to be up in a few days or so—I haven't figured out the schedule yet.

Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling. Plot is mine.

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I love winter. I love wool coats and knitted scarves. I love hot cocoa and the sound of the radiator whirring. I love the smell of Christmas trees and the taste of gingerbread. I love the way that the frost climbs up the window pane and the way smoke rises from chimneys, twisting and curling across a lonely grey sky. 

My friends all call me crazy. But then again, they're always dwelling on the negative. The flu, wet socks, and walks to be shoveled. If they could only see it the way I do. The glitter of newly fallen snow. The song of a fire crackling in the hearth.

I lifted the whistling kettle off the stove and pour water over a tea bag. Peppermint tea. One heaping spoonful of sugar. Four quick stirs. Lick the spoon. Always the same.

I carried my mug into the living room, sat down in a chair, and picked up a worn paperback novel with a broken spine and dog-eared pages. I was reading _Pride and Prejudice_ for about the thousandth time—I truly didn't know why I kept going back to that book. I mean, yes, it was one of the greatest novels of all time, and, yes, it was a truly beautiful love story, and, yes, I'd been having love troubles of my…

Oh, there's no use in lying. I knew.

But, I mean, honestly—I can't possibly be the only girl on the face of the Earth who wants a Mr. Darcy to come and sweep her off her feet.

The locks on the door clicked open.

I tucked my thumb into the book and took a quick sip from the mug. I winced as the hot liquid splashed up against my lips.

"Bugger! It's bloody freezing outside!"

He pulled off his boots and dropped them on the mat with two loud thunks.

I called out to him. "Hey, Ron."

He popped his head in while he was still struggling with his coat. "Hey." He disappeared for another moment, hung up his coat and scarf, and came back into the living room. His nose was flushed pink from the cold. "Harry in yet?"

"He came and left about half an hour ago."

"Yeah? He go down to the pub?"

"No, he's going out with Ginny tonight."

"Huh." He stood in front of the fireplace and rubbed his hands together. "When's he going to be back?"

"He didn't say… I'd expect them to be in around one."

"Oh."

I took another sip of my tea. "The water's hot if you want to make something."

"Nah. Thanks, though." He plunked down in a chair and leafed through the morning's _Daily Prophet_ that was sitting on the coffee table, quickly losing interest. "So what do you want to do for dinner? Order in?"

"Sure."

There are benefits of sharing a house with your two best friends. Especially when both of them are men. Especially when the tension between you and one of them is thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Chinese good with you?" he yelled from the kitchen.

"Sounds great.'

Harry has served as a bit of a buffer since we bought this place. Well, since _he_ bought this place. I thought that we'd all end up living at Grimmauld Place since the war was over but, no, we live in an old house in London. Harry wanted to keep Sirius's house empty as a sort of memorial to him, and I've learned over time to not question Harry's intentions concerning his family. Anyway, he lets Ron and me pay for our share of the utilities because of Ron's oh-so-delicate pride. We all have steady jobs and are more than capable of paying for our own homes, but since we're all unmarried and we've basically been sharing the same living space since we were eleven, it just made sense. We'd all get awfully lonely.

And it isn't just us at the house. Ginny pops in from time to time, often unannounced, but it's alright. She's Harry's girlfriend, Ron's little sister, and my best female friend. She would be living here anyway if it weren't for her mother's overprotective tendencies. It was "improper" to live with one's boyfriend. "Only married couples live together!" she'd said. And Ron has been surprisingly calm throughout the entire Harry/Ginny saga. He doesn't seem to mind when he finds his baby sister and his best friend snogging on the couch or when we hear the loose floorboard on the stairs creak as Ginny creeps down the stairs to floo home at four in the morning. It's nothing short of astonishing if you ask me.

I heard Ron switch on the wireless in the kitchen. I sighed. He couldn't even bare to be alone in the same room with me for more than ten minutes.

I don't know what happened, honestly. I mean, the war ended nearly four years ago. I thought I'd made myself quite clear as to how I felt about one Ronald Bilius Weasley. And I thought my feelings were reciprocated.

But no. After the hype of the end of the war had died down, we went back to the way we'd been before, if not worse. At least when we were in school Ron talked to me, never mind that it was mostly bickering. I assumed that things would just fall into place. I assumed that there was nothing left to be discussed.

And, really, what else needed to be said? I up and snogged the bloke while curses were flying through the air and our lives were at stake. Many, many people would agree that all subtlety had been shot to hell at that point.

The doorbell rang just as the clock in the hall chimed nine o'clock. Ron went bounding down the hall to the front door. "Got it!"

I got up out of the chair and unwrapped myself from the blanket. I heard Ron say thank you to the delivery man and handle the bags of food into the kitchen. He was opening a white paper carton as I was walking in.

"I got you some Kung Pao chicken. That alright?"

I nodded and went to get a fork from the drawer. I picked up the carton and started to eat.

About halfway through this silent meal that was all too commonplace in our house, Ron looked at me like he was going to say something, but then closed his mouth and continued to eat.

After he stuffed the last forkful of food into his mouth, he took a swig of water from a Christmas mug, and carried his empty carton to the bin. "I think I'm going to go down to the Leaky Cauldron and say hello to Neville."

"Okay, see you later," I said, leaning up against the edge of the counter.

He darted out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, came flying down the stairs about a millisecond later, and was coated, gloved, scarved, and out the door in record time.

I poked at the chicken in the white paper box before setting it down and beginning to put the leftovers into the refrigerator, muttering to myself about how Jane Austen was a dirty liar.

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A/N: What'd you think? Read and review, please! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's chapter two... I don't have anything witty to say. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

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Harry and Ginny were back earlier than I'd expected. It turned out that they had only gone out for dinner because Harry had some big meeting the next day. Harry trudged up the stairs at around ten o'clock, giving Ginny a kiss and yelling goodnight to me from the stairs. Ginny, as per usual, decided to stay a little longer and chat. 

Ginny pulled the kettle off the stove and poured the hot water into a mug. "So what have you been up to? How's work? What kind of tea do you have?"

I smiled. "Wow. Um, not much, work's fine, and peppermint and earl grey."

Ginny laughed as she came into the living room. "Sorry. I always feel so talkative when I know I'm not supposed to be. Harry's got a meeting at the Auror Office tomorrow morning, so I _should_ be going home and getting some sleep like a sane person, but Mum's been really, really, really difficult lately… always yelling about me not getting home soon enough or not telling her every single place I go. I mean, I play professional Quidditch, I survived a bloody war, but the fact that I am a twenty-year-old woman in a big city automatically makes me vulnerable? I've been of age for more than three years! I am quite capable of taking care of myself."

I nodded sympathetically.

"And whenever I offer to simply move out, she has a fit. It's borderline epilepsy! I don't know what her problem is! I guess it's just that she's just so terrified of having an empty house." She sighed. "And here I am, talking about something that I complain about all the time and not letting you say a single word—I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it." I sighed. "It's been a while since anyone's just talked to me at all."

Ginny rolled her eyes, tucked her legs underneath herself, and pulled a blanket over her lap. "My brother is so thick…" she said, stirring her tea. "Why in the world is he doing this? There cannot be any logical explanation!"

"I've often asked myself the same thing…"

"I don't see how you can stand it. I mean, we all know that he likes you. For heaven's sake, he's fancied you since he was bloody thirteen years old. He might not have realized it at that point, but that's all I heard about during our summer in Egypt—Hermione this and Hermione that… Bit annoying, really."

I blushed. "Well it's not like I've tried to talk to him about it or anything. I guess it's partly my fault."

Ginny shook her head. "Don't be silly. I realize that my brother is an idiot but even he should be able to understand the significance of a kiss."

The front door opened. "I'm home!"

"Hey, moron," said Ginny, not even bothering to look at him.

Ron pulled off his gloves and stared at Ginny, confused. "What did I do?"

Ginny rolled her eyes again. "Nothing. Go away."

"No, really."

"Ron, will you shut up? Harry's trying to sleep."

"Oh." He lowered his voice. "Sorry."

Ginny's eyes followed Ron to the kitchen and then she turned to me and shook her head.

Ron came back from the kitchen empty-handed and sat down in the chair furthest from me. "So how've you been, Gin?"

Ginny turned to Ron and raised an eyebrow. "Can you not see that Hermione and I are talking?"

He folded his arms across his chest. "I was asking a simple question… "

Ginny sighed. "So, Hermione, about those tampons—which brand do you prefer?" She winked at me and I smiled.

Ron pushed off the seat and began to walk up the stairs. "Goodnight."

I waited until I heard the door to his room close. "Ugh! Do you see how awful it is? He didn't even say a single word to me! What I wouldn't give to just slap the bastard!"

"I think you should!" Ginny finished her tea off and set the mug down on the table. "It might knock some sense into him."

I ran my fingers through my hair. Or attempted to, really—they got stuck about halfway.

Ginny sighed. "Well, I'd better get going." She made to get up but then jumped. "Oh! Hermione, I got you something." She skipped off towards the hallway.

I was confused. "What? Why?" I called, standing up at the same time.

I could hear the smirk in her voice. "I thought you might get some use out of it." She returned carrying her purse, coat, and a box wrapped with brown paper. "Just don't open it until I've left, okay?"

I weighed it in my hands and quirked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You'll find out once I leave." Ginny grinned. I was still confused. "And, on that note, I'll see you later." She gave me a hug, pulled her wand out, and apparated away.

I was left standing in my living room, holding a box of… something. I tucked it under my arm, folded the blanket that I'd been under, and turned the light out as I began to climb the stairs to my room. Once there, I closed my door with a quiet click, sat down on my bed, and tore the paper off to reveal a rectangular pink box, at least three times longer than it was wide, with something written in loopy cursive—it was in French, but the words weren't familiar to me.

"What in hell…?"

I opened the box and very nearly dropped it onto the floor.

Then I blushed.

Then I went to my desk and scrawled out a note, summoned an owl, and sent it out the window.

_Ginny,_

_This is probably the most lesbian thing you've ever done…_

_Thanks._

_-Hermione_

_------------------------------------------------_

The next morning, while I was pulling toast out of the toaster, Harry came in, one arm in the sleeve of his jacket and his tie hanging undone.

"Morning, Hermione." He managed to get his other arm in before grabbing his wand from his back pocket and turning on the coffee maker.

"Good morning." I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a jar of jam. "Big morning, no?"

Harry chuckled and tied his tie hastily. "Yeah, most people assume that being an Auror is all adventure and excitement… Little do they know that we wear the businessman's noose just like the rest of them. Even on Saturday mornings."

The coffee maker started to gurgle in the background.

Harry plopped himself down into a chair and started putting his shoes on. "So how was it last night?"

"Beg pardon?"

"With the gift? From Ginny?"

I turned beet red and my voice raised an entire octave. "Wha—you knew about that?!"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I went with her to pick it out."

"You cheeky bastard!" I swatted at him but he quickly ducked out of the way.

"Well, it certainly sounded like you enjoyed yourself…"

My eyes turned to saucers. "I put up silencing wards!"

He smirked. "Guess you weren't in the right mental state to do it correctly."

"Harry Potter!" I was quite close to decking him.

He laughed and poured himself some coffee from the pot. "Don't worry. Ron probably didn't even hear you."

I was quiet for a moment, and I'm sure my face had turned at least five more different shades of red. "I cannot believe…" I spread the last of the jam onto my toast.

The clock in the living room chimed seven o'clock. "Ah, bugger." He picked up his messenger bag off the floor where it usually sat and darted out of the room. "Gotta go! See you!"

"Wait, Har—eat something!" I called to him.

He ran back, grabbed my toast from my hand, pecked me on the cheek, and then made a beeline to the door. It crashed shut.

I turned around to put another piece of bread into the toaster and all but jumped out of my skin.

"Ron! Jeez, make a noise!"

Ron grunted something incoherent and collapsed into a heap on one of the chairs at the table. He rubbed his eyes and slumped down so that his head was resting on his arms.

I surveyed the scene in front of me. He had his big, navy blue blanket from his bed wrapped around him and his orange hair was sticking out in three separate places.

"Do we have any coffee?" he mumbled into the table.

I poured him a cup and set it down in front of him.

He sat up and squinted at the light, yawning widely. "Thank you."

I turned and looked out the window into our snow-covered garden. There was a squirrel digging up an acorn.

You know, I really hate squirrels. They're always getting into our attic and scratching around in the middle of the night. But I guess it could be worse. We could have doxies… or… nargles.

Merlin, it's been half an age since I last saw Luna Lovegood—I wonder how she's doing.

Ron pushed his chair back, judging from the scraping sound on the floor, and opened the cupboard. "Didn't we have cereal?"

"Harry ate the last of it yesterday."

He walked over to the refrigerator. "Figures we don't have milk… eggs, either." He picked up a jar of something opaque and grey and held it up to his face, reading the label. "This expired four months ago!"

"What is it?" I inquired.

"I don't know. I think it used to be cheese."

"Well, we have leftover Chinese… something Ginny put in there a while ago… some bread?" I offered.

He frowned. "Why is there never any edible food in this bloody house?"

I smirked. Maybe it was because we hadn't had a proper meal together in 'this bloody house' since the day we moved in.

Ron closed the door, defeated. "Where's the bread?"

I held out the bag to him and he grabbed it on the way to the toaster.

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A/N: I'm a review junkie—please feed my addiction! 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Okay, so this is a REALLY short chapter and I'm very sorry for that. It's just that I hadn't updated in a while and I'm coming up on one of those parts that I haven't finished yet. This is my way of making myself finish the story—bear with me. It's not that great of a chapter and there isn't much to it but I PROMISE next chapter will be much longer. Scout's honor.

Again, sorry. 

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

I came downstairs from my shower later that morning to hear the wireless on. I didn't think that I had left that on. I peered into the kitchen to see Ron, sitting and reading the newspaper at the table. 

It was nearly eleven. I'd expected him to be gone by now. 

Noticing my presence, he folded the paper up and set it on the table. "I'm going to go grocery shopping."

"Okay…"

He stared at me.

"Um, thank you?" I laughed nervously.

He stood and rubbed his hands on the fronts of his pants legs, not meeting my eyes directly. "And are you doing anything today?" he asked.

"I was going to just relax here."

Ron's embarrassed expression melted immediately. "Oh."

"But I don't have to," I added quickly, seeing his dejected face. I could feel mine flaming. 

Merlin, I'm not thirteen anymore—I shouldn't blush this much.

"Oh." He seemed to perk up at that. "Well, I was wondering if you would come with me… because… I have no idea what we need."

I leaned up against the doorframe and crossed my arms. "From the looks of it, we need everything."

Ron sighed. "Well, yeah… but I was going to go down to the muggle market down the street… and you know all the right brands to get… and I'm still not so great with muggle money… and… yeah."

It was my turn to stare. Was he serious?

"So… are you coming?"

I wondered what he was playing at. Ron hardly ever talked to me. Now he wanted to go grocery shopping together, for Merlin's sake. 

"Sure." I hesitated. "Let me get my purse."

"Good!" He rubbed his hand on the back of his quickly-blushing neck. "Er… I mean, yeah, okay."

I blinked at him. Looking back on it, I'd have been cracking up if it hadn't been so horrendously awkward.

All of Ron's exposed skin was a nice, deep pink now. "Your purse?" he offered. 

"Oh! Right." I practically ran up the stairs. Once I'd made it to my room, I pulled my purse off my vanity and managed to knock just about everything else that was sitting on top it off.

"Damn…" I dropped frantically to the floor and picked up as much as I could. I stood and caught my face in the mirror. I stopped and sighed, picked up the rest of my junk and returned it to its place before running down the stairs. 

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A/N: Review if you feel inspired to do so. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here it is, the next chapter, nearly six times longer as the last one—as promised! And I really do love making good on a promise :D

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

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The industrial fluorescent light bulbs in the ceiling buzzed and a hum that could only be described as elevator music was sounding in the background

The industrial fluorescent light bulbs in the ceiling buzzed and a hum that could only be described as elevator music was sounding in the background. The store was empty except for a few little old ladies and a pimply teenager reading a comic book behind the counter. I grabbed a shopping cart from the corral, dropping my purse in the wire basket children's seat. "Okay, let's go."

We walked over to the produce section. I picked out a few apples and oranges and set them in a bag. I knew that everyone in our house ate those.

When I looked up, Ron was standing in front of a display of canned green beans, looking for a good place to remove one so that the entire pyramid didn't fall over. He finally settled on taking it from the top. He strode back to the cart. "Do we need these?" he asked, waving the can about so that I could see the label.

I nodded. "Yeah, throw them in," I said before reaching for a head of lettuce and a bag of carrots. If I didn't buy them then Harry and Ron would never eat healthily.

I stopped.

Oh dear, I'm becoming their mother.

I shook that thought out of my head and pushed the cart down to the next aisle that Ron had already disappeared to. I nearly bowled him over with the cart as he came around the corner the same time that I did, carrying a stack of cereal boxes so high that it almost covered his face.

We shopped around for a while, picking up things based more on instinctual want than necessity. Ron, of course, had gotten away from me again and had gone ahead of me. I rounded a corner.

He was standing there looking intently at something. I couldn't tell what—his back was turned to me. Suddenly, he turned around brandishing a brown bottle. "Did you know that they make milk with chocolate in it?!" he asked, eyes glistening with awe.

I tried—really, I did—but I inevitably burst out laughing. Ron knew the wizarding world like the back of his hand because that was what he was used to, but whenever I go out into the world of muggles with him, his naïveté sticks out like a sore thumb, even after living in it for so long.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind that I was laughing at him. "This is incredible," he said, marveling at his new discovery. "We're buying this," he declared.

I smiled. "Only if we buy regular milk, too."

By the time we had reached the check out line, our cart was full to the brim. The aforementioned teenager set down the comic book and sighed, looking quite annoyed. He rung up our items and sighed again, looking at the green numbers on the screen of the cash register. "That'll be a hundred and fifty quid, even," he mumbled.

Panicked, Ron looked to me.

The cashier rolled his eyes. "One hundred and fifty pounds," he repeated slowly, as if he were speaking to someone who didn't understand proper English.

I fumbled for my purse and pulled out the money, scowling at him. The cashier took it, handed us our receipt and we left.

We carried our bags out around the back to shrink them down to pocket size. "What a little tosser, don't you think?" asked Ron as he shoved his last of the bags into his pocket.

"I know! He has no right to treat us like that! We're paying customers."

"And that magazine that he was reading? That was definitely not any comic book that I've ever seen…" he muttered.

"What?" I asked.

Ron looked up at me as he pulled his gloves on. "Didn't you see it?"

"See what?"

His face started to redden. "Er… it was a, um, dirty magazine that he was looking at."

"No!" My cheeks were getting flushed but I could easily blame that on the cold.

He nodded. "He had it hidden behind the comic book."

"While working?" I asked incredulously.

Ron patted his earmuffs down on the sides of his head. "I've seen worse at George's store. I swear, the kids that he hires..."

We walked out from the alleyway and an old man with a cane hobbled by, giving us a disapproving look as we emerged into the street again. I stifled a laugh.

We stopped once we were out in the open and stood there, neither of us saying anything. Ron picked at a button on his coat. I'd told him to long ago that most muggles would probably be a bit taken aback by someone wearing a cloak. A little too out of the ordinary.

"We should probably head back home, now, yeah?" asked Ron.

"Oh." I started wracking my brain for something to say, something to do. Something to prolong this day that wasn't turning out to be too awful. It had been ages since I'd done anything with Ron alone and I wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by. I stammered. "Uh, um—I thought we could stop by Gringotts." I bit my lip. "If that's alright."

He raised an eyebrow and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's fine. Apparate?"

"Yeah…" I looked around to see if anyone was in sight. "Let's go back down there," I said, pointing towards the alley.

We apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was relatively empty, save a few people. Neville Longbottom was at the bar, moving empty tankards into a cupboard with his wand. He looked up when he heard the pop of their apparation.

"Ron! Hermione! It's so good to see you!" he said, pulling a couple of glasses from the cupboard. "Can I get you anything to drink? Butterbeer? Something stronger?"

Ron chuckled. "No, thanks, Neville. We're just on our way to Gringotts."

Neville nodded as he put the glasses back. "You ready for the match tonight? I know that I am…Wait," he said. "Where's Harry?"

I looked to Ron. His ears were growing pink. "Uh, he's working all day. It's just the two of us."

Neville grinned. "Oh. So does that mean that you two are on a da…?"

I shook my head very sternly at him, which made him stop.

"Ah. Well, never mind then." Neville wiped at the countertop. "I don't mean to keep you."

I didn't look at Ron. I couldn't bring myself to do it, either for embarrassment of seeing his embarrassment or fear that he would see mine. Most likely both.

"Not at all, Neville. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?" said Ron.

Neville grinned. "You know it. Puddlemere is going to murder the Canons. But that's no surprise, is it?"

Ron coughed. "We'll just see about that, now won't we?"

"That we will," said Neville. "See you."

"See you," said Ron and I in unison.

We started towards the wall in the back of the pub. I reached up to tap at the bricks, three up, two across. But Ron tried to do it as well.

"Sorry," he said, pulling his wand back.

"No, you can do it," I said.

"No, that's alright. You do it."

I lifted my wand again. "Okay."

I touched the bricks will the tip of my wand and then stood back as the wall began to rearrange itself into the entrance for Diagon Alley.

Ron and I pushed past the people that were packed into the busy street, moving from store to store and stopping to talk to people occasionally. We finally made it to Gringotts, falling into the slightly more organized chaos.

My shoes clacked on the marble floor. I approached a goblin behind one of the desks. "Hello," I said brightly.

The goblin sneered at me.

I cleared my throat. "Um, I'd like to make a withdrawal, please. For Hermione Granger," I reached into my purse and produced a shiny gold key. "Here."

He hopped off the stack of ledgers that he was standing on. "This way."

When we came back from the tunnels, I had a sack of galleons that I didn't exactly need and a nauseous looking Ron.

"Every time I go into the vaults at Gringotts, I always feel like I'm going to throw up," said Ron, holding his stomach. "Every bloody time."

"Do you need a potion?" I asked as we emerged back onto busy the street. "The Apothecary is just down the way."

Ron shook his head. "Nah, that's alright—it could be worse. At least I'm not, say, fleeing from enchanted, burning hot gold on the back of a dragon or anything," he said, laughing quietly.

I stopped suddenly. "Hey," I said, reaching out and brushing my fingers against his arm, turning him around. "I've missed you."

Ron shoved his hands into his coat pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. "You see me every day…" he chuckled nervously.

Looking down, I pushed a pebble across the cobblestone street with the toe of my shoe. "Well, I know. But we don't get to just, you know… hang out anymore."

"You like hanging out with me?" he asked, his nervous expression melting away.

"Of course I do."

A slow grin spread across his face and his ears started turning pink. "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade, then?"

* * *

I stuck a jug of milk into the refrigerator. We had just come home from shopping for groceries—a normal, everyday, mundane thing. But, that day, in my opinion, had been a great day. I might even go as far as to say it was a perfect day. All thanks to my best friend.

And there he was. With his red hair and his manly smell and his freckles and one of those ridiculous maroon jumpers that his mother gives him every year for Christmas… and a bit of chocolate smudged on his bottom lip. I smiled.

"Ron?"

He shoved a box of Captain Crunch into the cupboard. "Yeah?"

"You've got some chocolate on your face… just there."

"Oh. Where?" he asked, feeling around his face, failing to find the smudge.

"No, it's right here," I said, pointing to the spot.

"Here?"

"No."

"Cripes… will you just get it?"

"What?"

He looked at me insistently.

"Oh…okay." I reached out and wiped the smudge off his chin, the pad of my finger dragging against his stubble.

I was about to pull my hand back when Ron reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Uh, what are you…"

He pulled my outstretched finger to his lips and drew it into his mouth, tongue squirming against it to get the chocolate off.

I very nearly melted on the spot.

"Mmm." He released my finger with a pop. "Nothing beats Honeyduke's chocolate."

I was left standing there, face flushed and lips parted, staring at him like a fool. "I—I have to… wash my hands," I breathed before bolting up the stairs.

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A/N: REVIEW!!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: SURPRISE!! Early update! Long chapter! w00t! lol

In this chapter: a lot of snarky bffl banter, cherry!Ron, and the answer to the question "What the hell did Ginny give Hermione three chapters ago?"

Also, sorry for putting the first sentence of the last chapter twice. I got a little copy-and-paste happy :D

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

It was nearly seven o'clock in the evening that same day and both Harry and Ron were locked up in their bedrooms. I didn't know why—Harry usually comes out and talks to me. So, naturally, I decided that I would try and tidy up my room. I had just finished and was walking down the stairs with about a dozen mugs clinking together with every step. Someone was leaning against the stair rail. I stopped.

"Ginny… you're here."

She sighed. "Oh, don't sound too excited, Hermione. People might think that you actually have feelings."

I smirked. "What do I have to be excited about? I mean, it's only you… it's not like this is some rare treat or anything."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at me.

"You should get a job," I said.

She followed me to the kitchen. "I have a job," she told me in a sing-song voice.

"Oh, yes. A very taxing one at that. Playing Quidditch, was it?"

"You're just jealous."

"No, actually. I am quite content with both of my feet on the ground, thanks."

She smiled. "So what are you doing with every mug that you own?" she asked.

I set them in the sink. "I had them in my room and just never got around to bringing them down here. So I'm doing it now."

"You drink so much tea… seriously—it isn't healthy."

I smiled and flicked my wand at the faucet. Instantly, water started running and a sponge started scrubbing the mugs clean. Outside, snow was blowing against the window. All was quiet except the sound of running water.

"Hermione?"

I turned around and wiped my hands on a towel. "Yeah?" Ginny was staring at the open fridge looking thoroughly perplexed. "What?" I asked.

"There's food in here…" She slammed the door to the refrigerator and went to the cupboard, flinging it open. "Sweet Merlin, the apocalypse is upon us!"

I rolled my eyes. "Ha, ha."

"Ooh!" Ginny bent down and grabbed for something. There was a crackling of plastic as she emerged from the belly of the cupboard, brandishing a shiny blue package. "Popcorn! I love this stuff!"

I offered my hand out. "Here, I'll make it."

She waved her hand at me. "No, no. I'll do it." She held the package up to her face and began to read.

"Do you know how?"

"Of course I do!"

"Okay! Okay."

She ambled over to the box sitting above our counter, mumbling to herself, still studying the package.

Ginny was quiet.

I held out my hand.

She sighed. "Fine, you do it."

"Thank you." I unfolded the package and set it into the microwave. "Honestly, you need to learn how to use a one of these."

"Oh, give me a break—we don't have one at the Burrow! I doubt Dad even knows what a microwave is."

I turned to her as I finished punching the time in. "And exactly how much time do you spend at your own home?"

She opened the fridge, pulled two bottles of butterbeer out, and banished the caps off with her wand. "You love me and you know it." She handed one of the bottles to me.

I took a sip of the bubbling golden liquid and sighed. "Yeah… for some reason, I do."

Ginny smiled. "Speaking of lesbianism, how'd it go last night?"

"Huh?"

"With the…" She waggled her eyebrows. "That one's my favorite. Harry tried to take me to a muggle shop to get one once, but I think that the magic kind are so much better, don't you?"

I was too shocked to say anything—I'd completely forgotten about that since this morning. Now, though, the embarrassment was coming back for round two, packing just as much of a punch.

"Anyway," she said, "I assume that it was at least halfway decent. Harry told me that you're quite the screamer. I should have guessed that."

I groaned and brought my hand up to cover my quickly reddening face. "Does nobody have anything better to talk about?"

"As your best friend, I think I have the right to know," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Ugh…" The timer on the microwave went off. I got up to dump the package out into a bowl and set it on the kitchen table. "Why? Why does this need to be common knowledge? Terrorism? Famines in Africa? Oh, no. What the world wants to know is the quality of my nighttime solo sessions." Ginny laughed and I threw a piece of popcorn at her. "Maybe I should just have a banner made that says 'Hermione Granger Masturbated Last Night!' and hang it outside the house so you don't even have to ask. How's that sound?"

"It would certainly make things a lot easier…"

I took a swig of butterbeer. I was completely baffled as to why everyone was so interested with this.

"But, seriously, Hermione—I want to know."

"I'm not going to tell you!"

"Don't be ridiculous, you tell me everything… and I bought you the damn thing!"

"Did I ask you to?"

Ginny sighed and threw her hands up. "I figured that you'd appreciate it, what, with your current situation."

"Wow. Thanks," I deadpanned.

"Oh, you know I didn't mean it like that. I just assumed you'd be frustrated."

"I am…"

"Well, there you go. Now tell me."

"Ginny! For the last time! I refuse to tell you how good my…" I lowered my voice. "…how good my orgasms were."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up and she smirked. "Orgasms? As in plural, multiple, more than one?"

I huffed. "Now you're just antagonizing me."

"How many?"

"What?!"

She grinned. "How many? My personal best is twenty-two."

"Twenty-two?" I wasn't aware that was possible. "How in the world…?"

"You made popcorn and didn't tell me?" said Harry, suddenly emerging from the dark hallway and into the kitchen.

"Hey, I didn't know you were home. I was just telling Hermione how great you are." Ginny winked at me and my chin nearly dropped to the table.

Harry smiled, clearly not recognizing the innuendo. "Thanks." He bent down and gave Ginny a peck on the cheek before reaching for a handful of popcorn. He looked at me. "You alright, Hermione?"

I was still stunned. "Just fine."

"Huh. I'll take your word for it... Hey, do we have butterbeer?" he asked, noticing ours.

"Fridge," I mumbled.

He nodded at me and pulled one out. "Nice."

"Harry!"

We all turned towards the sound of feet trampling down the stairs.

"Harry, we're going to miss the beginning!"

Harry shook his head. "Ron, I'm in the kitchen!" he bellowed. He leaned in towards us. "Puddlemere's playing the Canons tonight and I got us tickets. Neville, Seamus, and Dean are coming, too."

"Harry!" Ginny smacked him on the shoulder. "Why didn't you get a ticket for me?"

"Oh, you know… it's a strictly no-girls thing. And it's sure to be a boring game anyway. I mean, it's the Chudley Canons."

Ginny continued to stare daggers at him.

"I'm sorry! I had absolutely no say in the matter."

She shoved him again. "You, Harry Potter, are a bloody liar."

Ron came hurtling into the kitchen. "Harry, we've got to go! Oh." Color rushed to his cheeks. "Uh… Harry, the match starts in thirty minutes. We should really leave."

"Yeah, okay," he said, pushing off his chair. "So, uh, we'll probably be home late… early, really, so don't feel obligated to wait up."

"Well, you both have fun at your little sausage fest," said Ginny, laughing.

"It's not a sausage fest!" said Harry, suddenly looking very offended.

Harry and Ginny soon fell into a tickle fight and an argument over who's prettier.

Ron, who was standing beside the entire scene, looked very much like he had to go to the bathroom he was so anxious.

On Ron's behalf, I very dramatically looked at the clock. "Oh! Harry, look at the time! It's nearly seven thirty now!"

"Well, we'd better go." Harry kissed Ginny once more.

"Bye," I said to them.

"Okay! See you later!" said Ron as he jerked Harry away from Ginny and out the door, slamming it behind him.

Ginny laughed. "What the hell was up with him?"

"He really likes Quidditch...?"

"Well, obviously." She took a sip of butterbeer. "I meant with his sudden transfiguration into a cherry."

I smiled. "I have absolutely no idea."

She shook her head. "So… anyway, what sparked this feeling of obligation to stock your home with sustenance?"

I sat down at the table and rubbed my hands together. "It actually wasn't me. It was Ron."

She crunched on a piece of popcorn. "What is he? Gay?"

I giggled. "No, he isn't gay."

"Well, sorry, but I just don't usually expect those kinds of acts of domesticity from a straight male."

"Um, actually, Ron asked me to go with him today to get said sustenance…Go figure." I looked down into my hands in my lap, waiting for her inevitable response.

Ginny grinned. "You've been withholding information, Miss Granger." She sat criss-cross on the chair. "Tell me everything."

I recounted the entire day to her, from Ron's first encounter with chocolate milk to the awkward conversation with Neville.

"Wait, why was he working at the Leaky Cauldron?" asked Ginny. "He's an Auror."

"He was probably trying to score some points with Hannah," I said.

Ginny smiled knowingly. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that."

I told her about how we went to Gringotts and how the goblin at the counter was obviously being oppressed. Ginny shook her head and laughed.

I told her about everything that had happened up until we got home. "And, since we'd gone to Honeyduke's when we were out," I said, "he had some chocolate on his face."

"Typical—my brother, the slob."

"So I told him and, for the life of him, he could not seem to find it so he asked if I would wipe it off for him."

Ginny chuckled. "What?"

"I know. Completely unlike him."

"Yeah, no kidding. Ron and physical contact just do not mix. Especially with, gasp, girls."

"I don't know… he and Lavender Brown had no problems being seamlessly joined together during sixth year."

Ginny looked confused at first but then realization broke across her face. "Oh wow, I'd completely forgotten about that!"

"Well, lucky for you…What are you laughing at?"

"I just remembered the canaries!"

"Hey, I was really hurting. And he deserved it."

"Of course he did—I was very proud of you."

I groaned… stupid tangents. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but think I was telling a story."

"Fine, fine. Go on."

"Okay, so, he'd just asked me to get the chocolate off his face for him, so, I did… and then—"

"Oh dear."

"—he reached out, grabbed my hand, and he sucked the chocolate off my finger."

"Gross! Please, Hermione, spare me the pornographic details!"

"Says the girl who wanted to know how many times I got off the other night, you big dyke."

Ginny raised her eyebrows and licked her lips seductively. "You know it."

I laughed.

"But seriously," she said. "You're my best friend—we talk. Ron? He's my brother. I'd really rather not know what he can do with his tongue."

"Oh, no. No, Ginny, seriously—I realize that he's your brother but, sweet Merlin, I went completely weak in the knees. It was possibly the hottest thing I've ever experienced. I don't even think he realized what he was doing—he just did it like it was the most natural thing to do. Gosh, and the way that his eyes were locked right on mine when he was licking my finger… it was… mmm." I shivered. "Wow."

"You do realize how deprived you sound, right?"

"Well, considering that I was eighteen years old when I got my first and only kiss, and that it's been four years since then… yes, I realize that," I stated wryly.

"Okay. I was just making sure," she laughed.

"And not everyone is fortunate enough to be dating a sex machine, you know," I added.

She nodded. "It's true."

I rolled my eyes and popped another piece of popcorn into my mouth.

* * *

A/N: Shoot me a review... or twelve.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Another early update... Actually, they're probably going to be coming this frequently from now on. Oh, and I took out a chunk of the story between last chapter and this chapter. But don't fret, dear fanfiction lovers—it wasn't relevant to the plot.

Also, there is a technical error in Chapter 4 that a reviewer (athia) informed me of: you can't get Captain Crunch in Britain. For those of you living Captain Crunch-less in Britain, I am very, very sorry.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

"How's it coming, Hermione?"

I blinked up at my coworker, his trim, elegant, almost effeminate frame leaning against the doorway to my office.

"It's… coming," I said, scratching my scalp through a mess of dark brown curls. "What are you doing?"

He fiddled with his watch as an enchanted paper airplane memo came whizzing past his head and onto my desk. "It's nearly twelve thirty. I was wondering if you wanted to go get lunch with me."

I unfolded the memo and groaned—jury duty next week. "No thanks, Draco. Don't have time."

He smiled his perfect white smile. "Ouch."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I have to have this in by tomorrow morning and I like to edit it, at the very least, twice before then..."

He glided to the chair opposite my desk. "Honestly? You've been working on that damned bill for months. You finished the thing two weeks ago. There isn't a single error in the entire twenty-three pages of it. Believe me—I know. I've read it six times." He sighed and crossed his legs as he fell gracefully into the chair. "All I'm asking is lunch. My treat."

I looked down at the pages of parchment and groaned.

He huffed dramatically. "We can even go into muggle London if it'll make you happy."

I chuckled and set my quill down on the table. "Okay, fine. Let me get my purse."

We walked out to the street and down a few blocks to a café that I picked out. We ordered just as a pair of slender, busty blondes walked into the room and giggled in Draco's direction.

He smirked over his shoulder. "You know, muggle London isn't all that bad…"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to have to lock you up, you man-veela. What would the missus say?"

Draco handed the man at the counter a few bills. "Hmm… maybe something along the lines of, 'Sweet Merlin, my children are going to be gorgeous.'"

"And so modest…" I remarked as the cashier gave him his change.

"Well, they will be Malfoys, won't they?"

We walked over to a table by the window and sat down. Minutes later, a girl with a black apron, thick rimmed glasses and hair up in a messy bun came over and delivered our food. I looked from my plate to Draco's. He had a small salad and I had a sandwich that was about four inches high and took up the entire surface of my plate. Way to be a fatty, Hermione.

"So do you have any plans for Christmas?" he asked.

I swallowed a bite of my mammoth sandwich. "I'm going to the Burr— the Weasley's house. Molly makes enough food to feed an entire clan of giants and everyone is there, so it's nice to see all of them." I wiped my face with my napkin. "And you?"

"Oh, you know—the usual. Mother and Father are going to come and stay with us for a few weeks, which doesn't exactly thrill Astoria. We've still got a million and one things to do before they get here… We'd been having issues with our curtains in the room leading to the terrace? I told you about that, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I think so. Couldn't decide on a fabric?"

"Color, fabric… anything, really. I looked through more bolts of fabric… It was a nightmare. She would fall in love with one, then, the next day, she'd hate it. This went on for weeks until, finally, we decided on a green linen with some sort of gauze mess behind it… personally, I don't care what the material of the fabric is so long as it means that this odious project is finished. Anyway, we had them picked out, we got them delivered, and we were getting ready to install them—"

"And risk breaking a nail?!" I asked in mock horror.

"Ha—you're funny. Anyway, we were getting ready to install the curtains when she decided that she couldn't even bare to look at them."

"Really?"

"Yes. I offered that we hold onto them in case she changed her mind, but when I came home the other day, I found that she had set fire to them."

I gaped. "Wow."

"I know, right? The crazy bint… Merlin knows I love her, though."

I grinned. "Aw…"

"What?" he asked, dusting a crumb off his sweater vest.

"You're such a softy," I said, leaning my elbows on the table and sighing dramatically.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, as hard to believe as it is, even Draco Heart-of-Stone Malfoy has the capacity to love." He shook his arm and slung out his wristwatch. "We'd better head back."

* * *

Ron was in a noticeably foul mood when I got home. I was sitting at the kitchen table, reading _Witch Weekly_ and drinking a butterbeer when he grumpily ambled into the kitchen. "So you had lunch with Malfoy today," he stated flatly, leafing through the pile of mail.

I gulped down the fizzy liquid in my mouth. "Um, yes, I did. How did you know that?"

He shrugged but didn't look at me. "I was on my way to the Ministry and I saw you sitting in the window of a restaurant."

"Oh."

He didn't so much as turn his head in my direction when walked past me into the living room.

* * *

It was about eleven o'clock when I walked up the stairs to go to sleep. Ron was coming back from the bathroom at the end of the hall. He had a towel slung over his shoulder and his hair was still wet.

"Goodnight, Ron," I said on the way to my bedroom.

He turned and looked at me. "Didn't you have that bill due in tomorrow?"

I stopped and smiled, pleasantly surprised that he remembered. "Uh, well, yeah. I do. Why do you ask?"

"Well I was just wondering how you had any time to be going out to lunch on the day before such a big event."

I paused. "Oh. Well, really, I finished it a long time ago. I've mostly been editing for quite a while now."

"And you just decided to stop? Don't you think you should have looked it over again?"

"I must have 'looked it over' more than fifty times, Ron. It's finished."

"Oh, and did _Draco _convince you of that?"

"Yes, he did," I said cautiously. "I was being unreasonable."

"Huh. Convenient."

"What is wrong with you?" I asked.

"What's wrong with me? Oh, there's nothing wrong with me. There is, however, something very wrong with you," he said with a seething calmness.

I frowned. "Excuse me?"

"What were you doing having lunch with Malfoy?" he demanded.

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"You understood, Hermione—they don't call you the smartest witch in a bloody century for no reason."

"He's my coworker—I might even go as far as to say that he's my friend—and friends go to lunch. It's really not that unusual of a practice." I sighed. "And, frankly, I fail to see how it's any of your business."

"I don't trust him," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ron, he's harmless—you know that."

"Well I still don't like him!"

"That doesn't mean that I can't!" I groaned. "Why do you even care?"

He paused and his expression faltered before he set his jaw again. "I don't," he said and then stormed into his bedroom. His door clattered shut and I was left standing in the dark hallway.

Harry's head popped out of his door and he was clutching his illuminated wand. "Hey," he said.

"Hey, did we wake you up?" I asked apologetically.

"No, I was awake—I just heard a loud noise. Is everything okay?"

Then, Ron's door swung back open. "No, it's not okay, Harry, because Hermione here is sneaking around and having lunch with Draco bloody Malfoy!" He said, hands flourishing about and his face so red that I thought it was going to explode, then slammed the door shut again.

Harry raised an eyebrow at me.

"I need some tea," I said, rubbing my hands over my eyes.

* * *

A/N: Reviews! OM NOM NOM NOM.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: You know, Harry is rarely ever given enough attention as Hermione's best friend. In a lot of the stories that I read, Harry is just a side character. I say this because I'm guilty of it, too. So, this is my attempt, although pretty feeble, to rectify that situation.

It's kind of a short chapter. Tomorrow's will be a little shorter than this one (sorry!), but Tuesday's will be LOOOONG. There's something to anticipate.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Believe it or not, there are times when Harry isn't completely caught up with his job or Ginny or anything else at all. And on some of those nights, like this one, Harry and I stay home, order a pizza, and watch a movie in our pajamas. Tonight, it was a new one: _Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl_.

I pushed the stop button on the remote as the credits rolled through. "That was… amazing."

Harry laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm definitely considering becoming a pirate now."

"I don't know… Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp are going to be hard to live up to."

"Hey, I'd make a good pirate…" he said, pouting.

I shrugged. "It's nothing personal, Harry, but not every guy can pull off the whole eyeliner thing."

"Ah, whatever." He stood up and stretched. "I have to pee."

"Thank you for the update." I flung the blanket off of my lap and walked over to the DVD player, pushing the button to remove the disc.

I looked up by chance and happened to see Ron run up the stairs. He must have been in the kitchen. What a stubborn arse.

Harry came back into the living room, scratching his stomach. "Did you see Ron?"

"Um, yep." I put the DVD back in the box and snapped it closed.

"Are you still not talking to him?" he asked.

"It hasn't been that long…" I sighed. "It's not that I'm not talking to him. It's that he was being ridiculous and I don't have anything else to say."

"Right…"

"I'm not not talking to him!" I scoffed. "Do you want something to drink?" I asked. "Another butterbeer?"

He shook his head. "No, thanks."

I walked into the kitchen, opened the door to the fridge, and reached for a butterbeer… to find none there. I thought there was one in there.

Then I stopped. Ron—of course. I went back into the living room.

"Well, it's been fun. Thanks for a nice evening. Night," I said as I went to climb up the stairs to my room.

"Hey, Hermione…?" he asked.

I turned around. "Yeah?"

"I have a question to run by you."

"Okay. Go for it." I went and sat down on the couch beside him.

"Well, Christmas is in a week or so." said Harry, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Uh huh…"

"And you know how we all go to the Burrow for Christmas, right?"

"Yeah…?"

"You… me… Ron… Bill and Fleur… George… Charlie… Ginny…Per—"

"Yes, I know how we all go to the Burrow," I laughed. "What's going on?"

"Well, I was thinking about asking Ginny…"

I nodded. "…yeah?"

"I was thinking about asking Ginny to marry me. What do you think about that?"

"Oh my gosh! Harry!"

He rubbed his hands together. "Is it the right time? Do you think it would be a good time for it? I know that Christmas can be hectic, and—"

"Of course it's the right time."

"Do you think she'll say yes?" he asked, looking up at me.

I blinked at him. "Harry, you cannot be serious. Ginny's crazy about you, you know that."

"I just don't know if she's ready…" he said, scratching his head through his hair.

I grabbed his hand. "You've been dating for nearly five years. She fancied you for at least six years before that. I think the poor girl has waited long enough."

"I know… I wanted to make sure that it was safe."

I shook my head. "You're too noble for your own good."

He smiled. "Do you really think I should do it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Harry?" I asked, laughing.

"Well… okay."

My heart swelled. Something about seeing Harry so nervous and excited and completely in love just made me so happy. My eyes started to well up.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I smiled at him wobbly and gave him a hug. "It's about time, Mr. Potter."

"It is, isn't it?" I could hear the smile in his voice. "I figure that if I ask her now, we could have a nice long engagement, and get married in the spring. April, maybe. I think she'd like that."

"Yes, she definitely would," I said.

Harry was positively beaming when I sat back and wiped my cheeks dry.

I sighed. "You do realize that you're forcing me to lie to my best friend for a solid week, right?"

"Oh, you'll deal," he said, waving his hand at me.

I rolled my eyes. "So… have you bought the ring yet?"

"Yeah, it's in my room."

"Well go get it! I want to see!"

Harry grinned. "I'll be right back," he said, and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

* * *

A/N: Review me, Blazer!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Actually, this chapter ended up being about the same length as the last one. Probably because I made it better. It was full of suck before. So here it is. Remember, next chapter will be longer!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Christmas was in exactly three days and it had been at four days since I'd said more than a syllable to Ron. Harry and Ginny had gone out for the evening and I was in my bedroom, wrapping presents and hiding from the raving red-headed prat of London. Well, not really. I assumed that he didn't want to talk to me, anyway. It was more like avoiding, and avoiding him should have been no problem.

But, of course, he did want to talk to me.

I heard a knock on the door and groaned silently.

"Hermione? Are you decent?"

I frowned. "Um, yeah?" What kind of question is that? Do I really seem like the type of girl to just go trouncing around without any clothes on? Honestly, Ron. "Come in," I said, pulling another gift onto my mattress.

The hinges squeaked slightly as the door opened. "Do you need any help?" he asked.

I waved my wand over the package sitting on my bed. The shiny red paper folded itself across the package and a gold bow tied itself neatly on the top. "No, thanks."

Ron nodded and shoved his hands in his back pockets. "Right."

I shrunk the wrapped gift and levitated it over to a bag on my desk, then ran a hand through my hair. I really wish he'd leave if he wasn't going to say anything to me.

"Listen, I, uh… I'm sorry for blowing up at you for having lunch with Malfoy. It's none of my business, anyway."

I sighed. "It's okay," I said, my back still to him.

"Because I was an arse and you didn't deserve to be exploded at like that."

I rested my hand up on my hip as I levitated another gift onto my bed. "You're right. I didn't."

"And you have no idea how much of a jerk I felt like afterwards."

I smirked. Probably not as much as how much of a jerk that I thought he was.

"It's fine, Ron. I wasn't even that mad at you."

"You weren't?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. You didn't warrant canaries this time." I glanced over my shoulder quickly and smirked at him.

He laughed. "Okay, good."

We both stood there in silence. "It's just…" I turned towards completely him so that I could look him the eye. "It was only lunch," I said.

"Huh?" Apparently I'd startled him.

"With Draco. It was nothing more than two friends having lunch… I wanted to make sure that you knew that."

He looked down at his sock-clad feet. "It seemed like more than that to me…"

Then, realization struck me: Ron had thought that I was on a date with Draco. While he was completely wrong in his deduction, the thought thrilled me. He was upset because he thought _I_ was on a _date_ with him. I grinned. "Ron, Draco's married," I said, rolling my wand between my fingers.

"What?" he asked, looking up at me, his shoulders dropping to a more relaxed position. I hadn't realized he was so tense before.

I nodded. "Yeah. He married Daphne Greengrass's sister, Astoria. Quite a while ago, actually."

Ron looked back and forth between my eyes, and his face got a little red. "Oh."

I exhaled and turned back around to the task at hand… but I had run out of wrapping paper. I looked around the room. "Hey, do you see a roll of wrapping paper anywhere?"

Ron and I looked around until he reached behind my dresser. "Found it," he said, handing the roll to me.

"Thanks."

I heard him shuffling his feet. "Hey, uh, do you want to go get some coffee or something? Or tea? You like tea, don't you?"

I looked up at him. "Me?"

He chuckled and glanced around the room. "Well, yeah, you seem to be the only one in here."

I beamed. "Well, yeah, that would be nice."

Ronald Weasley: the only human alive who can make me want to smack him one minute, then make me dither about like a silly schoolgirl the next. _Without_ magic.

* * *

A/N: Cliché, I know. Just review it lol


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So I'm going to stop writing after this chapter... APRIL FOOLS! HAHAHAHA

Um, sorry about that lol

Long chapter, as promised.

Oh, and happy birthday to Fred (R.I.P.) and George!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Christmas at the Burrow was the one thing that everyone looked forward to during winter, if not the entire year. It was so popular among the Weasleys, their family, and their friends that Molly and Arthur expanded the kitchen, the den, and added a dining room for that very occasion. There was a giant table that you couldn't even see because of all the platters of delicious foods that Molly had made, leaving only just enough space to put the plates and water goblets.

Dinner at the Weasley's, especially on Christmas, was loud. Between screaming babies and people talking and laughing, I could barely hear myself think. Ginny was sitting beside me, shouting something at Bill, Harry was sitting on the other side of her, chatting with Molly and Arthur about the function of trampolines, Ron was arguing heartily with Bill and Charlie about Quidditch, Fleur was feeding Victoire, George was talking to Percy and his wife about…something, and that's all that I could hear. The rest of it was just chatter.

Every once in a while, Ron would glance over in my direction, and I would pretend to be very interested in someone else's conversation or the things on my plate. Not that I was staring at him or anything like that.

At some point, much, much later, Molly stood up and started banishing platters and serving dishes to the kitchen and the table was soon cleared. Arthur rose from his seat and suggested that we all go into the den to open presents.

Harry hung back behind everyone else. "Hey, Gin?"

Ginny, walking beside me, stopped and turned towards him. "Hmm?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

She turned and looked from him to me. I shrugged, trying my very hardest to remain straight-faced, and thankfully, succeeded. She strode over to him and I gave Harry an encouraging smile once her back was turned.

"What is it?" I heard Ginny ask at I disappeared out of the room.

I walked towards the den with everyone else. Ron was waiting in the hall.

"I wonder what that's all about," he said.

"Give them about a minute," I said, doing absolutely nothing to hide my happiness.

Ron stared at me, his face screwed up in confusion. "What do you know that I don't?"

I smirked. "Do you want the list?"

There was an ecstatic squeal from the kitchen.

* * *

The snow was falling against the frosted window and piling up along the edges. Ginny and I were lying on her bed in the dark of the night, covers pulled up to our chins, the only light coming from a small Christmas tree in the corner of her room, illuminated by fairies captured in colored jars.

Ginny rolled towards me. "Hey, guess what."

"What?" I asked.

"I'm getting married."

I smiled. "I know."

"I'm getting married to _Harry Potter_."

"I know."

"I've been dreaming about this since before I can remember."

I smirked. "Just think—a decade ago, you met him for the first time."

"Wow, it has been a decade, hasn't it?" she said. "And I still can't believe you knew and didn't tell me—I didn't think it would be possible for you!"

I laughed. "It was hard, believe me."

"Yeah, right, you traitor," she said, nudging me with her shoulder. I nudged her back.

She sighed contentedly and snuggled further under the covers. "I'm so happy."

The doorknob turned and the door opened and closed with a soft click. There was a flutter of fabric and the glint of the colored lights reflected off Harry's glasses. "Hey," he said.

Ginny sat up and grinned. "Hey."

"Hey, Harry." I sat up, too, leaning up on my elbows. "A bit old to be skulking around under your invisibility cloak, don't you think?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Listen, uh, Hermione, I was wondering…"

I smirked. "You want me to leave."

"Well, yeah." He shrugged. "Would you mind?"

"No, not at all."

"Ah, you're the best. I talked to Ron and he said that you could sleep in his room."

"Wait—Ron's room?"

"Yeah, you know Ron. Tall… red hair… freckles… has an unhealthy obsession with chocolate frogs and the Chudley Canons… Ring any bells?"

I made a face. "Harry…" Sure, Ron and I had made up, but that didn't mean that I wanted to have a slumber party with him just yet.

"Hey, I'm just making sure that you have somewhere to sleep. I mean, Charlie's sleeping on the couch, and I don't think you want to stay in here…" He trailed off. A suddenly very pink Ginny's breath caught in her throat. Honestly, you'd think she wasn't getting any…

For the love of Merlin, twenty-two? Seriously? Harry Potter: Defeater of Dark Lords and closet Sex God—who would have guessed it?

Harry groaned, snapping me back out of my thoughts. "Oh, come on, Hermione, it's just for a night. And all you'll be doing is sleeping… Please?"

"Ugh…" I hopped off Ginny's bed, grabbed my pillow and wand, and made towards the door. "You're welcome." I smacked Harry on the head with my pillow on the way out.

"Hey!" he whined, trying to flatten his mussed hair.

I opened the door and turned to them just in time to see Harry settle himself on top of Ginny. "Don't have too much fun."

"Bye, Hermione," said Ginny in a singsong voice as she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck.

I stuck my tongue out at her in retaliation before closing the door.

The hall was dark and quiet. As I approached the stairs, I heard the Weasley's ancient, asthmatic owl, Errol, wheezing from the kitchen. I lit my wand and stepped over the creaky floorboard that was in front of Bill's bedroom before tiptoeing up the stairs.

It was four flights of stairs up to Ron's room, and I climbed them as quietly as I could. There wasn't much wiggle room in the Burrow and I didn't want to wake anyone. Ron's door came into view. I 'nox'-ed my wand and tucked it behind my ear before knocking, hugging my pillow to my chest.

Ron opened the door. "Hey."

"Hey… Harry came into Ginny's room a few minutes ago and said I could sleep in here? I would sleep on the couch but Charlie's there."

"Yeah, he told me. Come on in."

I stepped into Ron's dark room. "You can have my bed… I'll sleep on the floor."

"What? No, you don't have to do that."

"No, no. I don't mind."

"Well, okay, thanks… Goodnight."

"Night."

I walked over and climbed into his bed. The sheets were warm.

Minutes ticked by and I listened to the quiet pattern of Ron's breathing from the floor. He wasn't asleep.

"Hermione? Are you asleep?"

"Nope."

"Me either."

Silence.

"Did you have a good Christmas?" I asked timidly.

"Yeah, it was good. I have a new jumper for the year."

"Well, that's good."

Again, silence.

"How about you?" he asked.

"It was nice to see everyone again. I can't believe Bill cut his hair—I barely recognized him."

Ron let out a puff of a laugh. "Yeah, he's really trying hard to fit the mold of 'family man.'"

"Victoire is getting so big."

"So is Fleur. Did you see the size of her stomach? I was afraid to get near her for fear of making her pop!"

I giggled. "Do they know what it is, yet? The baby?"

"I think they're going to wait until it's born to find out, but Bill told me they decided on 'Dominique' for the name, so it'll work if it's a boy or a girl."

"Aw, that's a pretty name."

"Yeah…"

"And Harry and Ginny…"

"Well, we all knew that it was only a matter of time. We had a bet going as to how long it was going to be since they got back together. Bill, Charlie, Percy, George and me. I think Dad was in on it, too."

"For that long?"

"Oh yeah."

"Did Ginny know about this?"

"Are you kidding? She would've killed us."

I was quiet. "How's George, by the way? I was hesitant to approach him about it earlier."

"He's doing a lot better. You heard that he opened another shop, didn't you?"

I nodded. "I did hear that."

"Yeah, and he's been dating Angelina Johnson from school, which sort of surprised me—I didn't know that they'd stayed in touch. Anyway, she would have been here if she hadn't gone to her grandparents' house for the holiday. Apparently her grandparents are older than dirt and they don't know how much longer they have left before they croak."

"How very sensitive of you, Ronald," I scoffed.

"That was what George told me. Blame any insensitivity on him."

It was quiet again in his room, but nothing compared to the awkward silences that I'd become so used to recently. No, this was comfortable and calm, like it used to be between us, before.

"I can't imagine what that must have been like," said Ron from the floor, almost startling me as he broke the calm, quiet darkness. "I mean, yeah, Fred was my brother, I loved him and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him, but he and George were… well, you know how they were. And he was standing right next to him…" He sighed. "It must have been hard, that's all…I reckon it'd be most like if I'd lost Harry."

I hummed and blinked up at the ceiling.

"Or you."

I turned and smiled into my pillow. "Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad that we finally got over that whole… not talking thing."

"Yeah, me, too. It's been hell without you."

I yawned contentedly.

There was a rustle of fabric and I saw Ron sit upright in the moonlight. "Hermione… can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Okay. Uh, well, this is completely and entirely after the fact."

"That's alright."

"Well, you know how we… er… kissed during the final battle?"

I paused. It was a good thing that it was dark in his room or Ron would have witnessed such a display of color crossing my face that it would have given even him a run for his money. "Yes, I remember," I breathed.

"That wasn't just a… heat-of-the-moment thing, was it?"

"No."

His voice dropped down to a deep whisper, but much closer to me than it had been a moment before. "Good."

Then, there was a massive, reverberating clang of metal overhead, causing both of us to instinctively reach for our wands and Ron to lie back down so fast that he slammed the back of his head against the wooden floor. "Buggering hell! That bloody ghoul!"

My hand went to my chest in attempt to quiet my racing heart. "Oh my gosh."

"You alright?" he panted.

"Yeah, I think so. Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

I sighed as the awkward silence set back in. Whatever moment that we may have had going on before was completely dead now.

"So, I'm going to go to sleep, now," he said.

"Okay. Me, too."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Night."

"G'night."

* * *

A/N: Review, pwease.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Here it is, dear readers. Chapter 10. I like the number 10. I also like the number 11. Yes, 11 is a good number.

By the way, "jumped away from me like a thousand bonfires had just ignited between us" is a quote that I shamelessly stole from Gilmore Girls. They're not the exact words but they're pretty close. Please don't sue me, Gilmore Girls People.

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

There was a knock on my bedroom door.

I opened the door and stepped back as a flash of red whooshed past me.

Ginny groaned and flopped back on my bed, arms extended over her head and legs hanging off the edge. "I have the most awful cramps known to anyone, anywhere, ever."

"Anyone, anywhere, ever?" I asked, chuckling.

She propped herself up on her elbows. "This is nothing to laugh about! I am in serious pain!"

"Did you use the potion?" I asked.

She dragged her hands up to rub her eyes. "No, I ran out of it. Do you have any?"

"No, but it probably wouldn't be that hard to make some…" I said, reaching for a book on one of my shelves.

She sighed and curled up in a fetal position while hugging a pillow to her stomach. "Ah, don't worry about it. I can suffer through this—I've done it before."

"Hmm. Well, my mother has always insisted that chocolate cures cramps and, what do you know? I happen to have a bar of the most delicious chocolate ever," I said, reaching towards a drawer and pulling out a bar of Honeydukes chocolate.

"Are you kidding?"

"Well, I figure that if it can help you feel better after a dementor attack, it couldn't hurt to try it for cramps."

"This feels like a dementor attack… Wait, I thought your mother was a dentist," said Ginny.

I rolled my eyes. "Just because she's a dentist doesn't mean that she can't eat candy. Besides," I said, "she always brushes her teeth afterwards." I held the chocolate out to her.

She took it from my outstretched hand. "Sweet Merlin. Bless you."

"Any time." I sat down on my bed. "Where's Harry?" I asked.

"He's working… visiting Azkaban or something. I don't know. It's not a mission so I don't have to worry about him but he had to go somewhere." She broke off a piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Yeah… Gosh. I love chocolate."

I nodded. "Me, too. Break me off a piece.

She paused. "This wasn't your last bar, was it?"

"Would it stop you if it was?" I asked, smiling.

She laughed and handed it to me. "Good point."

"So I had a weird situation with your brother on Christmas," I said, eyeing the piece of chocolate in my hand.

"Which one?"

I blinked at her. "Oh, all of them. They walked in on me while I was doing yoga in the nude. Who do you think?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at me. "Sheesh… Are you sure that it's me who's PMSing?"

"Sorry…" I said. I pulled my feet up under myself and leaned back against my headboard.

"Okay." She scooted herself up beside me. "What happened?"

"So you know how you and Harry banished me to Ron's room?"

She nodded, blushing a bit. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well we got to talking about everyone and things that had happened and about the Final Battle at Hogwarts."

"What about it?" she asked.

I chewed on my thumbnail. "Well, you know what happened between us…"

"Oh, yeah. So what happened?"

I set my hand down in my lap and exhaled, looking down at my hands. "He… Well… maybe, I don't know, I thought he was going to kiss me."

She squealed and did this little bouncy thing that she does when she gets excited. "What? No way!"

"That's what I thought—I could be wrong. It was pretty dark in his room."

She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Hermione, I'm so happy for you!"

I shrugged. "I'd be happier if he weren't acting so weird lately."

"Even weirder than he had been?" She broke off another piece of chocolate and popped it into her mouth.

"Oh, you have no idea. Right before the almost-kiss, the ghoul in the attic started banging on the pipes, and I guess it startled Ron or something because he jumped away from me like a thousand bonfires had just ignited between us. And he's said hardly a word to me since."

"It's been weeks since Christmas!" she gaped.

"I know!" I sighed and pushed my hair out of my face. "I don't get it. You and Harry just kind of… clicked, you know? I guess I assumed that Ron and I would to do the same."

Ginny smirked. "Well, you know what happens when you assume…"

"Come on, Ginny. I'm being serious."

She sighed. "Look, if you want him so badly, why don't you just come out and tell him? Tell him in plain words and leave nothing for interpretation. That's not completely against the rules, you know."

"I know…"

"And you were the one who made the first move last time."

"More like the only move last time," I snorted.

She ignored me. "We know that he has feelings for you, right? And we've pretty much established that he isn't ever going to take initiative in this situation so you need to be the one who says something. It'd really be disappointing to see either of you go through this for much longer—there's a lot of time that's already been wasted."

"I guess you're right."

"No, I am right. Now," she said, suddenly looking very determined. "When is a good time for you to do it?"

"Do what?" I asked.

She smiled. "To talk to my brother, you twit."

"Why?"

"I'd like to know when you plan to talk to him so that I can make sure that you reach your goal. You need some accountability."

"Oh. Well, I don't know… he's been working all the time recently."

"He doesn't work all night, does he?"

"Well, no."

She threw her hands up. "Then ask him tonight when he comes home."

I bit my lip. "That's a little soon, don't you think?" I wasn't sure that I liked taskmaster Ginny.

"You can handle it," she said.

"Ginny, I don't know…"

She sighed. "Don't worry about it so much, Hermione. I know that I'm making this out to be a huge thing but, really, from what you've told me, he's simply looking for affirmation that you want to be with him. Look, all you have to do is say, 'Ron, I like you,'" she said, holding my hand and looking meaningfully into my eyes. "See? There's nothing to it. Just be yourself and you'll do fine."

"Well, fine," I said resignedly.

"It'd have to be in small sentences, though. And make sure you use words that he'll understand—none of that genius-girl tripe, okay?"

I laughed.

* * *

A/N: Reviews, reviews! How I love them!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Here it is! I'm happy to let you know that I made this chapter at least 400 words longer than it was yesterday. I couldn't make it much longer or else it would have been awful. I'm sorry that it's short, but seriously. It would have been bad. Not good at all. Capeesh?

Oh, and 100 FREAKING REVIEWS!! I LOVE YOU ALL!!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

I had been lying on my bed since Ginny left two hours ago. Just lying there, feet dangling off my mattress, hands palm-up by my sides, staring at the ceiling. I was surrounded by white noise and the yellow light from my lamp.

I couldn't believe that tonight would be the night. It had been so long…so much had happened. We defeated a dark lord, we graduated from school, we got jobs, we bought a house, Harry and Ginny were getting married…

Why had I held onto this hope for this long? It had been almost four years. _Four years_. Four years ago I had been 18. Four years ago we were fighting in a war. People change after that. People can change a lot in four bloody years. Ginny was lying—he wasn't still interested. He couldn't be. It wasn't possible. I was being silly. A little girl who refused to grow up. It was time to move on.

I reached up and twisted a lock of hair around my finger. My tangled, bushy hair. There was a knot in it. Damn.

I sighed.

But what if he was still interested? What if he had these mental little conversations with himself like I'm having now? What if he wanted me as much as I wanted him? Would I really let my insecurities keep me from doing something that I wanted so badly that I lost sleep over it?

The front door slammed and someone came thumping up the stairs. Another door in the hall clattered shut and adrenaline coursed through my veins.

Ron was home.

I panicked. Should I talk to him now? Should I wait a while?

I chewed the inside of my cheek.

Should I do it at all?

I sighed. Yes, I should. Ginny would kill me if I didn't go through with it.

I sat up and went to my door, putting my hand on its handle, turning it slowly. The hallway was dark. I pulled it closed behind me, padded to Ron's room, and then I paused.

No, I couldn't do it now. He just got home, and my hair is awful… and I'm just not ready.

I shook my head.

What was on earth was I talking about? I'd been ready for years.

I knocked on Ron's door.

"It's open," he grumbled, the sound muffled through the wall. I stopped and pushed the door open, taking a steadying breath. It wasn't going to happen any other way and I wanted this. I wanted him.

The room was a complete mess. There were clothes strewn all over the floor and the sheets were pulled off his bed into a wad and Ron was pacing across his room rather frantically. I was surprised. He wasn't usually quite that much of a slob.

I looked at Ron's feet as they landed on the floor. "How was work?" I asked. 'How was work?' What is wrong with me?

"Didn't go to work today," he muttered.

I frowned. Well then where the hell had he been all day?

"Are you alright?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"Fine," he mumbled and continued to pace.

I closed the door behind me as I stepped fully into his room. "Ron, I need to talk to you."

No answer.

"You can't avoid me forever…"

He exhaled loudly.

"Will you just stop and listen to me? This is stupid."

All of the sudden, Ron jerked to a halt and looked at me, wild-eyed and red in the face. "You think this is stupid?"

I set my jaw. "Yes, I think you're being very immature."

"Well maybe I bloody am! Maybe I am immature and stubborn and can never figure out how to tell someone…" He trailed off.

"Tell someone what?" I asked, annoyed.

He sat down on his bed. "Forget it."

I shook my head and picked at my cuticles. "Look, you can continue hating me after you've just listened to what I have to say."

"No, you listen to me!" he snarled, jumping up from his bed, pointing at me with an accusatory finger.

I stepped back and my mouth hung open a little—he'd said it with such force. "Alright."

"I… you…" He clenched his fist in his hair and groaned. "Damnit, Hermione!"

"…What is it?" I asked softly.

He groaned. "I'm in love with you! Can't bloody you see that?"

I stared at him dumbly. Did he just say...?

He took one giant stride towards me, pulled me flush against him, and kissed me hard.

Well.

I certainly wasn't expecting_ that_.

I don't know what I was feeling. So many things… yet I couldn't seem to articulate one of them. My brain had melted into a puddle of goo. All those years of studying, all those years of being at the top of my class…and all I could do was press myself harder against Ron's warm, lean body and snake my hands into his hair.

We stood there like that for ages, only breaking the kiss to breathe but never breaking contact. His fingers found their way up the back of my shirt, and then back down past the waistband of my jeans, rubbing circles against the spot just below the small of my back. I shuddered.

At some point I registered a push behind my knees. I fell back, bringing him down on top of me.

Oh, his bed. How nice.

He landed on all fours, straddling my hips. He broke away from my lips momentarily, sitting back on his knees, his navy eyes meeting mine. I was left panting under him, lips swollen and hair fanned out against his pillow and he let out this animalistic noise that rumbled deep in his throat. Then, he took hold of both sides of my shirt collar and ripped them apart, sending the buttons flying onto the floor.

I gasped.

Oh. My. _God_.

He descended onto me, and his lips trailed down the column of my neck, finally settling on my newly revealed collarbone.

You see, Ron hadn't dated anyone in the years that we'd lived together and the only girl that he had ever been with, really been with, oh, wow, was Lavender Brown and there was no way that his snogging talent was simply a natural gift, someone had clearly taught him that, mmm, that clever trick with his tongue, and with that delicious pressure of his muscular thigh between my legs… oh, hell, I was going to have to thank Lavender someday.

* * *

A/N: Review please! And stay tuned for the epilogue!


	12. Author Note

A/N: Okay, so this is me doing one of those really annoying Author Note chapters that I personally hate a lot because you see it and you're like "OMG IT'S A NEW CHAPTER!!" but are disappointed because it's not a new chapter at all—it's just the author being annoying.

Sorry about that, by the way lol

Anyway, I'm doing this because I am a bit torn. You see, originally, I was going to post an epilogue for this story and be done with it, as I had already written the entire, completed story (it was basically a oneshot that I broke into pieces). Plus, my spring break is next week. But, the epilogue that I have written isn't really all that great and it's not entirely finished.

So here are the options:

1. I could post the mediocre epilogue tomorrow.

2. I could post a better (?) epilogue after I get back from SB in a week.

3. I could maybe, possibly, potentially end this story here and then make a sequel, but unless I finish that completely over the break, I'm probably not going to update as regularly as I have been… I'll be second semester, post-spring break senior—you can't make me do crap :P

Your input is much appreciated!


	13. Epilogue

A/N: So this is the epilogue to the story. I am horribly ashamed that it took me this long to decide what to do with the ending of this story, but I think I'm happy with it. I figured that another story would be too much of a commitment for me the summer before I go to college.

Anyway, here it is! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and elements belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

I love summer. I love wearing bathing suits and flip-flops. I love the taste of lemonade and watermelon smiles. I love the feel of grass under my feet and the sun on my face. I love reading a book and dipping my toes in the pond behind the Burrow, enjoying the weather with my best friends.

"So do you know if it's a boy of girl yet?" Ginny asked from further down the dock.

I felt warm breath on my neck as a breeze blew over the treetops. I smiled and leaned back into Ron's shirtless chest. A pair of big hands reached around my stomach that hadn't even begun to bulge yet. "It's a girl," he said.

I turned so that I could see him. "You seem pretty confident."

He nodded. "I am."

"You do realize that the doctors don't even know what it is yet, right?" I asked.

"Trust me, love," he said. "I know."

Ginny laughed. "You don't know."

He looked at her. "Yes, I do," he said defiantly.

"How?" she asked.

"I just have a feeling," he said, shrugging.

She smirked. "Oh. A feeling, eh?"

"Look—do you want to bet?" he asked her.

I sighed and turned my head in the direction of the wind to keep my hair out of my face. "Ron, it's our child, not a Quidditch ma—"

"Sure!" said Ginny. "Five galleons say you're wrong and it's a boy."

"You're on." Ron leaned, stuck out his hand, and they shook on it. He turned towards me, and I gave him a disapproving look. "What?" he asked innocently.

I shook my head. Neither of them had changed a bit.

"Oi! Look at this!" called Harry. We all turned and looked. He was standing waist deep in the pond, dunking baby James' feet in the water. James was giggling hysterically and Harry was beaming. Fatherhood suited him well.

Ginny frowned. "Harry, where's his hat?" she called to him, exasperatedly.

He pulled James, fingers shoved between his slobbery gums, up into his arms and looked at her. "He kept pulling it off so I took it off of him."

"He's starting to get a little pink," she said, eyeing James worriedly.

"Well, pink is a lot better than some other color, don't you think?" he joked.

Ginny glared at him, looking uncannily like her mother.

Harry sobered quickly. "I put some of the sun block potion on him not even ten minutes ago."

"Well you obviously didn't use enough," she huffed, grabbing the bottle and walking back up the dock to the edge of the pond so that she could reapply sunscreen on her son.

"Hey," I said, nudging Ron and nodding towards Harry and Ginny. "That's going to be us pretty soon."

"Except with a baby girl," he stated matter-of-factly.

I laughed. "Well of course," I said, marking the page in my book and setting it down.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

I looked at the faded cover of the book and smiled. "_Pride and Prejudice_."

"Again?"

"Yes, again," I said, rolling my eyes.

I situated myself against Ron and watched Harry dig through James' diaper bag for something while Ginny slathered thick white lotion on him.

"I bet she'll be smart like you," Ron said suddenly.

"Who?" I asked.

"The baby," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I smiled and hummed. "And she'll have freckles and red hair like you."

"But it's going to be curly like yours," he said, twirling a bit of my hair around his finger.

"Oh, gosh, I hope not," I said.

He leaned back on his hands and frowned. "What? Why not?"

"Because," I said, turning in his lap. "I didn't figure out how to get my hair under control until, literally, three years ago. I wouldn't ever wish that on anyone, especially not my daughter."

"I've always liked your hair," he said.

"Merlin, why?" I asked, self-consciously combing my fingers through my pony tail.

"Because it's you." His arms wound themselves around me again. "And I love you."

I smiled. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Weasley."

He hummed. "On the contrary, Mrs. Weasley. I think you and I both know that flattery will get me anywhere I want." he said, his fingers trailing up my ribs and lips pressing against my neck from behind.

I batted his hands away and smacked him on the shoulder as a deep blush found its way onto my face. "Ron! Harry and Ginny are right over there!"

He shook his hand in their direction. "Oh, like they're Mr. and Mrs. Innocent. If you recall, I ran into them in the cupboard the other day when we were looking after James for them."

I groaned. "Yes, you told m—"

"And here I was," he continued, "looking for Dad's old tent so that their kid didn't have to burn in the sun because _they_ forgot to buy the potion. Harry told me that they were going to get some, but I certainly had no idea that that was what he bloody meant!"

I suppressed a laugh and glanced from Ron's deeply red face towards Harry and Ginny. "They're going to hear you!"

But he still didn't stop.

"I mean, seriously? It's a cupboard that we all use! It could have been anyone who found them! It could have been Mum!"

"Ron, hush!" I clamped my hand over his mouth. "Look, I'll… I'll make it up to you later," I whispered.

He pulled my hand from his mouth and grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Really?"

"Yes," I said, feeling my cheeks fill with fire. Honestly?

He waggled his eyebrows at me. "I look forward to it… even if we both know that you're all hot and bothered by me already."

I laughed. "You prat."

He gasped in mock offense. "Now why would you go and say something like that?"

"Because you are an enormous prat."

He sat back and stood up. "Well fine."

I rolled my eyes and reached to open my book again when I felt Ron's arms slide behind my back and under my knees. "Ron, what are you—"

I didn't have time to finish as he had already dumped me into the pond.

When I resurfaced, gasping, Harry and Ginny were both having a good laugh at my expense at the edge of the pond. Ron was smirking down at me smugly.

"And that just further proves my point," I said, treading water.

He chuckled lightly. "You're right, I'm sorry. Here," he said, bending down and offering me his hand.

Which I used to pull him in with me.

He came up out of the water laughing and pushing his wet red hair out of his face. He, of course, could stand in the deep water. "Now was that really necessary?" he asked.

I looked into the smiling eyes of my husband, the soon-to-be father of my child, that big goofy man that I loved.

"What?" he asked.

I smiled. "I love you."

A slow grin spread across his face as he pulled me in for a kiss.

"Merlin, you two! Get a room!" called Harry from the shore.

Ron broke away from me long enough to give him a rude hand gesture.

My life couldn't be more perfect.

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A/N: Review please!


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